rejectomorph | The Chill Still

There must be some sort of event taking place in town, because I see searchlights. (I seldom know what is going on around here. It would probably help if I read the local paper, but I've never been able to work up an interest in it. Small town papers tend to be pretty stupid these days. Maybe they always were, I don't know. Anyway, I don't read it.) Actually, I don't think it is searchlights, but just one searchlight with four beams. Something new-fangled I've never seen before. Because it is cloudy, I can't actually see the beams themselves, but only the spots they make on the clouds. They constantly describe four counter-clockwise circles, like the leaves of a four-leaf clover, all four beams briefly coming together in a bright spot at a central point, then flying apart again. I stood in the cold for several minutes, mesmerized by their motion. Yes, I'm easily entertained. But what can I do? As I said, it's a small town, and entertainment of any kind is rare.

The storms are coming in one after another, with only a few hours of clear sky between them. The latest one dragged its shade across the forest this afternoon, before I had time to go for a walk. I enjoy the gray day, but prefer it to be less cold than it is now. All the insects that were out a few days ago have vanished. No bees buzz around the lilacs or the cherry blossoms. The waxy tulips display their intense color to the empty air. The chill has suspended spring, and everything waits for the rain to fall, and the drifting clouds to pass.